


Ice Castles

by MythicRhyvon



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Ice Castles (1978), Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Skating, Angst with a Happy Ending, Athletes, Blindness, Breaking Up & Making Up, Consensual Kink, Deadpool being Deadpool, Disabled Character, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Light BDSM, Loosely Based on Ice Castles, M/M, Romance, Violence, World Figure Skating Championships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicRhyvon/pseuds/MythicRhyvon
Summary: An unknown skater from Queens New York City, New York, seems to come out of nowhere and takes the National Figure Skating world by storm.With only six months to go from an unknown to a champion and a contender for Worlds, under the esteemed tutelage and astronomical expectations of Olympic Gold Medalist Tony Stark, Peter has little time to spare for life or the pursuit of happiness outside of training. Relationships are put to the test and strained seemingly beyond repair. New romance tests the waters when all else seems lost..., until tragedy strikes. Suddenly, every past hurdle seems miniscule in the face of injury and the unknowns yet to come. Can Peter rise above it all and achieve what was once so closely within reach? Or will he give in under the crushing weight of loss, despair and disability? Based loosely on the movie 'Ice Castles.'
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Past Wade Wilson/Vanessa Carlysle, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, and welcome to my most recent work. I've been in the mood to write, but 'The Butterfly Effect' hasn't been coming to me while this has been on my mind for a bit. I'm not sure it'll have any or many readers, but I decided to post it anyway. Please let me know what you think and if this is something I should continue to pursue. Thank you :)

Peter Parker was a rather unique young man. He was intelligent- classified as having a genus level IQ, and having finished the classes required to get his High School Diploma, along with a dual Associates Degree in Physics and Chemistry of which he would graduate with thanks to the Running Start program offered by Midtown High in association with NYU. He could have taken another semester of classes for his own advancement, had he wished, but instead had chosen to graduate early so he could get a job and help his Aunt May.

It wasn’t easy maintaining a single income household in New York City, even in the somewhat sketchy apartment building they occupied in Queens. His aunt May did her best, but he simply couldn’t justify staying in school unnecessarily when he had already met the requirements for graduation (and with a 4.2 GPA at that, thank you very much), and could step up and become a productive member of society. It had seemed too selfish, and so while he was waiting for early Summer to officially walk in Graduation with his class, he was free of all academic obligations after December 20th, until Fall, when he had a scholarship and acceptance letter to Columbia.

He’d gotten a job at Delmar’s Deli not too far from their apartment. It was easy work, and Delmar was chill enough that there was never any tension during operating hours, and he was well known and well liked enough, and centrally located enough, that the large majority of his fellow Queen’s residents visited his shop on an at least somewhat regular basis.

Being a deli, it didn’t have any late-night hours and so he found himself with the late evenings free, along with a couple of days during the week, depending on when he was needed. As it were that particular day, Peter found himself making his way towards the Wollman Rink in Central Park, having just exited the nearest subway, skates slung over his shoulder and wearing old, clingy, dark wash jeans and a simple black turtleneck.

It was Saturday, and only seven in the evening, so he would have nearly four hours to skate before the rink closed to the public for the night. Peter loved skating. He’d been in both Figure Skating and Ballet lessons when he was a young child, encouraged by his parents, who had been Pairs champions from 1989-1993, when they’d retired less than a year before he’d been born.

His parents had died in a plane crash when he was eight and he’d gone to live with his Uncle Ben and Aunt May, who lived a much simpler life than his parents had. Money had been tight, he learned early on. Though they hadn’t intended for him to pick up on such things, his mind was sharp and rarely missed such telling details as he’d witnessed growing up. He never said anything about it, never drew attention to the obvious. Instead he worked hard, used his brain to keep his grades up and had received a scholarship to the prestigious Midtown High.

His Skating and Ballet lessons had stopped when he went to live with his Aunt and Uncle. At first, it was because he was too sad and uninterested immediately following his parents’ funeral to care much about his regular hobbies. When he did start missing the feeling of skating, he’d already started picking up on his Aunt and Uncle’s financial state and so decided not to ask them to continue to pay the expenses he knew his parents had paid- not only for the lessons, themselves, but in gear, travel time, and in the other critical skills- not only Ballet, but yoga, endurance training, strength training, and so on and so forth. Granted, at eight he hadn’t yet needed all of that, but he’d been well aware of the requirements to remain at a competitive level once he would get older.

No, he was an intelligent enough child to know his Aunt and Uncle wouldn’t have easily born such a burden- not to say they wouldn’t have tried their damnedest- and so simply hadn’t asked them to. Instead, he’d skated in Central Park as often as he could afford the entry fare, and kept his body as fit as he could on his own so that when he was able to skate, he had the same finesse and strength as he always did. Few knew of his little hobby, but that suited him just as well, for it meant no one offered to tag along when he wanted to get on the ice and clear his head.

He was in sight and pushing up on his tip toes to see how busy it was that night, and so not paying attention in the least when a rather tall and muscular man stumbled directly into his path, shoved by one of his three companions. The other three continued on their way, laughing loudly and appearing at least slightly inebriated, while the one who ran into him stumbled and reached his hands out automatically to steady him so he didn’t fall backwards.

Peter himself let out a quiet _oof_ of surprise as he collided with the solid wall of muscle that didn’t so much as sway backwards at their collision. Stunning blue eyes peered down at him in surprise from a handsome face, tousled light brown hair, naturally sculpted brows, high cheekbones, a sharp jaw coated in five o’clock shadow, and a thick, muscular neck made for quite the good-looking package, without even taking into account the fitted jeans that practically molded to well-muscled thighs, black combat boots, a simple black t-shirt, and a worn leather jacket- all of which added to his attractiveness and raw appeal.

“Ahh, I am so sorry-?”

“Oh! Um, I’m Peter.”

“Hi Peter.” The stranger smiled, exposing gleaming white teeth as he smiled. “I’m Wade.”

“Hi Wade.” Peter repeated, and then immediately felt a bit foolish. “Uh, sorry for running into you, I guess I wasn’t really paying attention where I was going.” He admitted sheepishly, feeling the faintest blush come to his cheeks.

“No worries at all, gorgeous.” The man told him cockily. Peter felt his blush deepen, but it also gave him the power to pull back a step and put some distance between the two of them. He wouldn’t say it happened _often_ , but he wasn’t unfamiliar with getting hit on, and with various degrees of boldness.

Wade seemed to read his cooling interest, for he backtracked with his hands held up apologetically. “Too soon for pet names? I get it, that was my bad.” Blue eyes traveleved to the skates slung over a shoulder by the laces. “You here to skate?” He questioned, asking the obvious.

Peter raised a brow and tiled his head as he heard ‘Yo, Wilson, you coming?!’ from further down the street. Wade waved the three he’d been walking with away, continuing to watch Peter as if he were somehow of interest. “Good guess.” He drawled as he heard the other three continue on their way. 

“Want company?”

“You don’t have any skates with you.” Peter stated.

“I can rent a pair.”

Peter shrugged. “You can do what you want.” He said simply, not accepting nor denying his proposal as he moved to continue towards the entrance to the rink. Wade followed beside him, taking longer to enter for having to wait for the skates to be brought to him, whereas Peter was able to don his own as soon as he was through. Peter didn’t wait for him to step out onto the ice. The rink was busy so close to Christmas, but there was still room to move if one was skilled enough at weaving in and out of the other skaters.

He pressed a single wireless headphone into his ear and thumbed across his phone screen to start his playlist as he found his rhythm. After a few minutes of simply skating along with the crowd, Peter saw a clear spot naturally forming close to him and leaned on his skates to turn into the opportunity, measuring his strides and then pushing into his most recently learned combination- a triple axel followed quickly by a triple salchow. He didn’t have room to do any more than that before the crowd filled the gap, but the rush of accomplishment he felt from landing them carried him forward all the same. 

He missed the large pond that had been out behind his childhood home, back when he’d lived with his parents. It’s where he’d found his love of skating in the first place, but he hadn’t been back since he moved into the city proper and so there was really no point in mussing on the open stretches of ice, of remembering what it was like to truly have a rink to himself to fly across, without having to dedicate at least part of his focus to those around him.

He felt the large presence coming up behind him before he actually saw him. When he glanced over his shoulder, Wade had indeed joined him on the ice, though Peter hadn’t quite figured out why he’d gained the older man’s interest so suddenly. They didn’t exchange any words for the first hour, instead moving apart and coming back together silently as they passed across the well-worn ice. It almost felt as if they just happened to be there at the same time, if not for the direct and somewhat heated looks he was getting from his silent companion when they would happen to come back together.

Peter had already shown his own skill on the ice, but it was quickly and easily clear that Wade held his own skill and grace on blades, if not necessarily the same type of grace as a figure skater. Eight o’clock came and went, and the ice began to clear of the families, leaving behind couples and solo skaters for the most part. Wade came up behind him and slowed to match his pace, for what was probably the dozenth time that night. Unlike the other times, Peter gave him his attention fully by turning his head and making eye contact.

“You’re a good skater.” Peter told him aloud, breaking the silence between for the first time in what was starting to feel like an age.

“You’re not so bad yourself, gorgeous.” Peter frowned at him slightly and opened him mouth to respond, but Wade continued before he could. “Still too soon? My bad. You’re not too bad yourself, _Petey_.” He repeated, emphasizing the name.

Peter rolled his eyes, but the vaguely annoyed words stuck in his throat with the quasi-apology and he continued with his original train of thought instead. “Those guys called you Wilson.”

“Yeah.” Wade agreed easily.

“Wade Wilson?”

“Yup.” He agreed again, matching his shorter stride to keep even with him as the continued to circle the rink.

“Your name sounds familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Wade smirked slightly. “I don’t think so, Petey.”

Peter frowned over at him, reading more in his tone. “Is there another reason I should recognize your name?”

“Ohh, I dunno.” Wade returned. “Could be anything, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter agreed, doubtful, but choosing not to press.

The crowd continued to thin, and Peter took advantage of the spaces across the ice to practice his footwork and a couple of spins as the opportunities arose. Time continued to pass easily for Peter, as it always did when he was skating, but he found himself surprised that Wade remained on the rink along with him up until closing time.

Despite it being ten o’clock, Peter found himself exhilarate from the session, as he always was. He was practically buzzing as he exchanges his skates for his street shoes, Wade following behind him to share the bench he chose for the task.

“How would you like to get coffee. With me, I mean?” Wade asked suddenly as they rose to their feet.

Peter paused and glanced up at him in surprise. “You want to get coffee? This late at night?” He asked, a bit incredulous.

Wade made a face and glanced at the watch circling his wrist. “Valid.” He agreed aloud. “How about milkshakes? I know a place close by.”

Peter stood from the bench and turned to face him. Wade mirrored the gesture, smiling down at him from his nearly full head of height difference, eyes scanning him with an interest that hadn’t faded over the past hours and seemed to have increased. “I do like milkshakes.” Peter agreed with a tilt of his head after mulling it over. He knew his Aunt May was working the night shift and so wouldn’t know the difference, and he wasn’t due into work until eleven the next morning, so had plenty of time to sleep later. “Alright.” He said after a brief pause. “But only if they have fries too. I have to have fries with my shakes.”

“They have fries.” Wade confirmed, mouth widening into a pleased grin. “Pretty good burgers too, if you’re hungry.”

“Lead the way, then.”

Wade led him to the nearby street and then glanced over at him. “How’d you get here?” He asked, realizing they probably should have figured out the logistics on the way.”

“Subway.” Peter told him easily and Wade was glad they didn’t have to worry about another vehicle.

“I have my bike with me, if you’re up for it. Have a spare helmet and everything.”

“I thought you said this place was nearby?” Peter questioned.

“Nearby, yes. Somewhere I want to walk to and back from? Not as much.”

“Fair enough.” Peter acknowledged, seeing the logic in it. “Where’s this bike then?” He asked, butterflies tickling his stomach in anticipation. He’d never been on a motorcycle, after all, and even ten o’clock traffic in New York City was to be taken seriously.

Wade led him slightly further down the street to a sleek black bike and moved to release the two helmets secured to it. He handed one to Peter, exchanging it for his skates, which he paused to tuck beneath the seat. That done, he moved to pull his own helmet over his head and then reached down to zip up his leather jacket, so the wind didn’t catch the sides and cause an annoyance during the ride.

He swung a leg over easily and then turned his head to look for Peter, waiting for him to do the same. Peter stepped closer, hiding his slight nerves. His left hand came down to rest lightly upon Wade’s shoulder for balance as he lifted his right leg over the back rest to take the slightly elevated passenger seat.

The bike started smoothly with the turn of a key and they were soon on their way. At first, Peter held onto the sides of the seat, but found it didn’t give him the sense of security he needed to feel like he wasn’t going to fall off. It was still okay for a minute, but then the man sped up suddenly to make it through a light as it turned yellow, and Peter’s arms moved reflexively to grasp at Wades waist instead.

Peter had the thought he may have gunned it on purpose to achieve that outcome, but found he didn’t quite mind clutching at the hard muscles he could feel even beneath the thick leather. Wade reached down to tug at his wrist, pulling it forward so it would wrap around his waist instead of clutching it. Peter allowed the change, moving his other hand on his own accord until he was practically plaster against the mans back. Finally as secure as he was going to get, Wade seemed to take them into a whole new gear as they cut across the streets.

It felt daring, dangerous, unlike anything he’d done before as they weaved between cars as they’d so recently weaved between the other skaters. It wasn’t close to the same thing and yet felt just as good as skating, Peter soon discovered, heart thrumming in his chest and pulse loud in his ears despite the rush of wind.

The ride was over disappointingly soon, Wade pulling off to a side street and then to a stop less than five minutes later. It was a hole in the wall, advertising the best milkshakes in New York in worn posters glued to the street-front windows. Wades large hand came back to pat him on the side of the thigh in a gesture for him to move. Peter got the message, shifting his weight to one side and sliding off the seat so he was standing beside the bike rather than resting upon it. Wade followed suit once he was clear and then led the way inside.

They took a booth off to the side, a young woman coming to bring them menus as soon as they’d chosen where to sit. Peter wasn’t sure he was supposed to be in this place, for the full bar behind the counter was pretty telling that it was a 21+ establishment, but no one mentioned IDs and so Peter didn’t bring it up.

They asked for a minute to look over the menu before they placed their drink order and the woman left them be, moving back behind the bar “Tell me something about yourself.” Wade requested, setting his menu down after a minute, knowing what he wanted.

“Like what?” Peter asked, still scanning his own.

“I dunno. What do you do for a living?”

“Well, right now I’m working at a sandwich shop, but I just finished getting my associates’ and am supposed to start at Columbia this fall, so I suppose that’s something.” He explained, forgoing mentioning that he was also just graduating from high school, such a fact making him feel childish under the current circumstances, despite the fact that he’d been 18 for four months already. “What about you?” He asked, hoping to shift the focus off himself.

“I play hockey.” Wade told him easily.

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed. “That explains the skill in skating, I guess.” He continued, shaking his head with a smile. He should have guessed the other man spent more time than average on the ice to be so grateful, despite his bulk and muscles. “What team do you play for?” He asked curiously.

Wade smiled slightly. “The Rangers.” He said, quiet pride in his voice.

“Oh wow, you’re NHL!” Peter exclaimed. He slapped himself lightly on the forehead. “ _That’s_ why I recognized your name. My friend MJ is a huge Rangers fan. Wow, I’m sorry.” He rambled, feeling embarrassed at not putting two-and-two together hours ago.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s actually kinda nice when people don’t recognize me right away. Lets me meet people without all the pre-conceived notions and expectations, you know?”

“I guess that makes sense. Still, I feel pretty stupid right now.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. So what are you going to study at Columbia?” He asked, resuming his interest in learning more about Peter.

“Well, the focus for my associates were Physics and Chemistry, but I’m also really interested in engineering, so I haven’t fully decided yet. I know that’s terrible; I should have it planned out by now, right?” He laughed awkwardly, knowing he was sitting across from someone who was pretty much as locked into a career as you could get and probably raking in pretty good money besides, and here he didn’t even know what he wanted to do with his life.

“Fuck, no. Personally, I don’t think anyone ever really knows what they want to do. We all just sort of find things that work out for us and go for it for a lack of anything better.”

“Is that why you play hockey?”

“Yup.” His head tiled. “Money’s not bad either.” He told Peter with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Peter laughed at the unexpected directness. Their server came over before he could respond, bearing two milkshakes and a large order of fries for them to share.

They were silent as she set everything down and were soon alone again. Peter reached out to grab a fry, bringing it to his mouth for a small bite to test the quality of the fry before he submerged it in the thick looking shake. It was delicious- salty and crispy on the outside, warm and mushy on the inside, and strong enough to hold up to the strain. He folded it in half and swiped it through the chocolate ice cream and brought the salty-sweet combination to his mouth.

He was chewing in bliss when he glanced back up to find Wade watching him with a small smile, having not touched his own food at all yet, so wrapped up in watching Peter experience the magic that was the milkshakes at this particular hole in the wall bar. He felt his cheeks heat again and silently berated himself for being so emotive that night- something he was most definitely not on a normal day.

“Good?” Wade asked, smile widening into a grin.

Peter swallowed and cleared his throat. “Delicious.” He agreed, willing the heat in his cheeks to fade.

Wade pulled his gaze away to try his own peanut butter banana milkshake, skipping the fry and instead using the colorfully wrapped straw. He cleared his throat lightly and continued with their previous conversation. “Honestly, I’m a little surprised you’re not skating competitively, with your skill. That combination you pulled?” He whistled lowly, impressed.

“Oh, uhm, no. I just skate for fun.” Peter told him.

“Do you know how many competitive skaters there are out there that _can’t_ pull off that combination?” Wade asked him seriously.

“What do you know about it?” Peter asked, a frown tugging at his lips now. “You’re a hockey player, not a figure skater.”

“My ex-wife did figures.” Wade told him without hesitation. “Vanessa. She retired a couple of years back, but I picked up on a lot while we were married.”

“Oh.. Uh, sorry.” Peter said again.

“You’ve got to stop apologizing.” Wade told him with a chuckle. He reached out to grab a fry and dipped it into his own milkshake, pausing slightly and hesitant enough that it was clear he hadn’t tried that particular combination before.

Peter watched as his eyes lit up and he repeated the motion, scooping up more of the ice-cream mixture the second time around. “This is delicious!” He announced, muffled through his mouthful.

“Glad you like it.” Peter told him with a grin of his own.

“There’s an amateur figures competition at our rink next month. You should think about signing up. I think you could do really well.”

“Yeah right.” Peter laughed off. “I haven’t had any formal training since I was eight.” He continued.

“I couldn’t tell.” Wade told him, tone serious. “What do you have to lose?” He continued, pressing.

“Oh I dunno. My pride?”

“Oh, you definitely won’t lose that, gorgeous.” Wade told him, voice deepening to a rumble.

“Are we back to that, then?” Peter asked, at a loss for any other words.

“Still too soon?” He asked, frowning exaggeratedly.

Peter’s eyes dropped as he laughed, having become more invested in the other as the night had gone on. They consumed their late-night meal as they chatted, making small talk and getting to know each other on the most basic level. Their exchange became deeper and more flirtatious as time went on, their mutual attraction quite clear to both of them.

Wade was quite clearly the more experienced of the two of them, making increasingly sexual overtures as time passed while Peter continued to blush though his own bumbling flirtations. They ended up ordering some weird Asian-fusion wonton tacos an hour after they arrived, Wade ordering a beer when his shake was gone while Peter choose to request water.

It was after midnight when Wade began yawning. He apologized sheepishly. “Sorry, had a game today, feeling a little wiped.”

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, looking down at his own watch. “Of course, you should head home and get some rest.” He replied, feeling honestly disappointed that their night was coming to an end.

“It’s getting late, could I give you a ride home?” He offered, starting to gather their trash onto the tray that had been left.

“Which way are you going?” Peter asked, not wanting to trouble him if it would be out of his way when he was so clearly exhausted now that it was catching up with him.

“Whichever way you are doll, no trouble.” Wade returned, a new pet name slipping from his lips and drawing a new blush from his companion, much to his pleasure.

“If you’re sure..” He told him their address as they made their way back to the bike and the earlier procedure was repeated until they were pulling out into the scant traffic. It took fifteen minutes to pull up in front of their building and Wade killed the engine while Peter dismounted. Wade remained startling the bike as Peter removed the helmet and handed it back to its owner.

“Thank you for the ride.” He said quietly.”

“Of course. Couldn’t leave you to find your own way after keeping you out so late.” Wade told him easily. “Don’t suppose I’ve earned your number?” He asked boldly. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Peter smiled shyly, pulling his own phone from his pocket. “What’s yours?” He asked. He entered the number into a new text and then sent a simply ‘hi.’ He heard Wades own phone chime in his pocket and watched as the man grinned smugly.

Wade pushed himself up on his toes, not moving to dismount but rather to stretch towards the younger man still standing close beside the bike. He pressed a lightening quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before he sat back and refastened his own helmet. “Sweet dreams, gorgeous.” Wade said just before the bike roared back to life.

“Good night,” Peter returned, stepping back with a whole new blush and watching as the other man pulled away and disappeared around a nearby bend.

That certainly wasn’t how he was expecting the night to go, but he could hardly complain about the outcome, he thought as he made his way inside with a goofy grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An early reminder that this is Deadpool fandom, and so Deadpool cannon-type events will occur in this story and may or may not be tagged. Please note the rating and the tags. Also, please note I know little about hockey or figure skating, beyond my distant appreciation for both. I will attempt to keep things as realistic as possible but please let me know if anything is blaringly incorrect.

The next morning, Peter work with a giddy feeling in his stomach. He luxuriated for several long minutes before stretching across to his bedside table to reach his phone, only to find a text already waiting for him, time stamped at 4:56 that morning.

‘Thx for a great night, Gorgeous. Hope 2 C U again soon. -Wade’

The smile that had already been curling the edge of his mouth widened into a grin and remained as he rolled onto his back and held his phone up in front of his face. It was nearly 9:00 and so had been several hours since he’d received the text, but he hoped the other man would be graciously aware that he’d likely been asleep, considering their late night.

He bit the edge of his thumb nail and he considered how he wanted to respond before he started typing. ‘Good morning :) I had a good time too, would be open to a repeat. Surprised to see you were awake so early?’ He ended, hoping it sounded casual.

He waited a couple of minutes, but his phone remained silent. He eventually pulled himself out of bed with a sign and moved to get ready for the day. He grabbed a quick bite before leaving for work, knowing his Aunt would be sleeping herself and wouldn’t awaken until a couple of hours before she needed to be back at work.

His phone finally chirped in his pocked just after 1:00 as the lunch rush was dying down and he would have been embarrassed at how quickly he moved to pull it from his pocket, had anyone else been within direct sight of him. ‘Early practice- have to be to the rink by five during the season. How’s your day going?’ Was the reply he received.

‘Not too bad, kinda slow. How long do your practices last?’ He asked, curious.

‘Get done at five, usually.’ Came the immediate reply, followed quickly by another. ‘What time do you get off?’

Peter felt flush at words, though he doubted they had been intentional. A customer walked up to the counter and he took a couple of minutes before he could respond. His phone buzzed against his leg again in the meantime and it almost killed him not to look immediately.

When he did, his flush deepened. ‘Not like, ‘get off.’ Bad choice of words. Though, I mean, I wouldn’t say no to getting off with you, if you were interested. Not to say you’d be interested, just, uh. I’m going to stop there, but just putting it out there ;) …’

‘I know what you meant.’ He sent back, smiling despite his light embarrassment and ignoring the bolder flirtation. ‘I get off at seven tonight.’ He sent immediately after.

‘Wanna get dinner after?’ Came after a brief pause.

‘Sure.’ Peter sent back shortly, trying not to seem too eager.

‘Do you want to meet me somewhere or me to pick you up?’

‘Either way.’

‘Send me ur address and I’ll pick u up. How do u feel about Mexican?’ He questioned, reverting to shorthand.

‘My favorite.’ Peter replied, along with the stores address.

‘C U soon, Gorgeous. G2G.’

The interaction kept Peter in lifted spirits for the remainder of the day.

~*~

By the time closing came around, Peter was practically giddy with anticipation. He ended up locking the doors five minutes before he was technically supposed to so he could take a trip to the restroom to freshen up and check his outfit before his date would arrive. He’d dressed simply, in dark wash jeans, a deep red long sleeve shirt and a fitted black coat, so he figured it would do well enough.

His phone chimed at 7:01, letting him know Wade was waiting outside. He glanced up and through the glass to see the familiar bike idling beside the curb, Wade’s long legs holding him up with careless ease as he glanced down at his phone screen.

Peter moved over to the door and secured the building on his way out and then he found himself standing before the man who’d been a stranger just two days before and yet and held the majority of his thoughts the past couple of days. “Hi.” He greeted shyly now that they were face to face once again.

“Hi.” Wade replied coyly, watching him approach. Once he was close enough, the older man leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, reminiscent of how they’d departed before. “Still good with Mexican?” He asked as he handed over the familiar spare helmet.

“Yeah, pretty much always.” Peter told him, hardly joking.

“Man after my own heart.” Wade responded, leaning slightly forward so Peter could join him. Peter didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the other man’s waste this time, an action which was rewarded with a strong hand reaching back and squeezing his thigh in acknowledgement before they set off and joined the evening traffic.

They ended up at another hole in the wall joint, but at this one the employees spoke rapid fire Spanish behind the counter as they ordered. They took an empty booth in the cantina style dinning room as they waited for their order to be ready. “You still look exhausted.” Peter told him now that they were face to face and under unforgiving florescent lights. “Maybe you should just get some sleep.”

“Nahhhh.” Wade denied easily, resting his cheek on his fist as he gazed across the table at him. “I’ve gone longer on less sleep. I’d much rather be here with you.” He told him, drawing another one of those enticing blushes.

“And why is that?” Peter asked directly the question that had been nagging at his conscious since the night before. He was hardly anything special, after all. Hardly worth the attention of a renown NHL player during hockey season, when his focus needed to be on the ice.

“I dunno.” Wade mussed honestly. “I just like you, like being around you. You make me feel good, I like feeling good…” He trailed off suggestively and paused for a moment to study him before he continued. “Is that a bad thing, Peter no-known-last-name?” Wade teased with a serious edge.

Peter smiled sheepishly as he realized he never fully introduced himself, though he’d make it clear that he was aware of just who the other man was. Nothing to do but rectify the situation, he though. “Parker.” He said out loud with an apologetic smile. “Peter Parker.”

“Well then, Mr. Parker. Is that a bad thing?” He teased, leaning deeper into his hand, though his gaze never wavered.

“No, not at all.” Peter reassured. “I find myself rather enjoying your company as well, though I haven’t held it long.”

“Glad to hear it.” Wade replied, voice even deeper and eyes hooded as the man continued to gaze across the table at him.

It was then that their food was brought over and both pulled back as the hot dishes were set down on the table. Wade dug in first and Peter followed quickly upon realizing the other obviously didn’t care for pretenses given the voracious way he attacked his own plate.

They ate mostly in silence, though grunts of enjoyment and the random exchange occasionally crossed the air.

Their food was eventually finished, and they stood to toss their garbage as they made their way back out into the brisk New York night. It had started snowing again while they’d been inside, and so the fresh layer of snow continued to deepen on the edges of the street where the salt didn’t quite reach, and along the buildings where it wasn’t sprayed.

Peter hunched deeper into his light coat, not having planned to be out quite so late when he’d dressed that morning, and so the brisk air cut through his coat sleeves and the thin fabric of his shirt to tear into his arms. He shivered despite his best efforts and in response Wade stepped closer and draped one of his massive arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to his own warmth. The motion caused his coat to pull free and leave a gap- a gap of which he decided to take advantage of by sneaking his arm into it and wrapping it around the much thinner fabric of his own t-shirt, which did little to contain the furnace like heat of the flesh beneath.

Wade shivered slightly himself but pulled him closer rather than pulling away, pressing his lips to the top of his head as they began walking silently down the sidewalk, aimlessly but for their mutual enjoyment of the moment.

They eventually came to a small empty lot covered in a thick layer of untouched snow behind the sole bench bolted to the cement beside the sidewalk. It had continued to snow as they walked and the city seemed to be muffled around them as they strolled along.

Peter’s hand drug along the back of the bench, a ball of snow naturally forming in his hand with the careless motion, and his mischievous nature couldn’t help but pull away a step to gently launch the snowball at his companion, causing it to break gently against his chest. Peter let out a bright burst of laughter at Wade’s look of surprise before the older man regained his wit and moved to retaliate.

Their playful back and forth quickly escalated to an all out 1:1 battle thanks to their dual competitive natures, and they were soon using every trick in their arsenal to gain the upper hand on the other. They ended up in the snow, Wade holding Peter down long enough that he could feel the ice melting against his neck.

He let out a quiet gasp of surprise as the cold water trailed down the back of his neck and shoulders, leaning upwards and wrapping his arms around Wade’s own for leverage.

They stilled in unison, Wade clutching at his arms in return to hold him up off the ground as he peered down at him, entranced. Peter stilled at the intensity, breaths coming out in small puffs of air as his eyes locked on blue, watching as the other man scanned his face and locked on his bitten lips. The clouds of air coming from Peter’s lips stilled as his breath did in his chest- both of which Wade noticed. His smile widened as he drew Peter closer, lowering his own head at the same time, until their lips met in truth for the first time.

Things quickly grew heated after that initial contact. Wade lowered Peter back onto the ground, but he didn’t mind the snow against his back anymore considering where his attention was held. Wade didn’t leave him alone long anyway and was soon pressed fully against Peter’s front, having come to rest naturally between his knees as the exchange continued.

Wade pulled back from his lips to press kisses against his neck and the underside of his jaw, interspaced with nips and nibbles. Though it had still only been a couple of days, this progression felt natural and Peter found himself well and truly wanting _more_ despite the newness of it all. He projected such in the cant of his hips as he pressed up against the hard line of the body hovering above him.

The heat between them continued to grow, right there in the empty snow-covered lot beside the street, at least until the blare of a horn pulled them apart.

Wade pulled back, panting, as he took him in. “What do you say we finish this back at my place?” He asked bluntly.

Peter felt a flare of heat at the words but hesitated, torn. He wasn’t a virgin by the strictest definition of the word, but he wasn’t very experienced in such matters either, and he found himself worried he would disappointment Wade, who was clearly more experienced in the ways of the world- and the ways of the flesh- than he himself could hope to be. “Orr not?” Wade continued, clearly reading the hesitation on his face. The other man didn’t sound disappointed, though Peter wouldn’t have blamed him if he had. “Want me to take you home?” Wade asked, pressing another kiss to the underside of his jaw, but not pressing for anything more.

“Please.” Peter asked, to which he received a peck to his lips in reply. Wade pulled back and stood to his feel, reaching both hands down to help Peter rise as well and then continued to help pat off the extra snow clinging to him for laying atop it for so long.

The started back down the street towards the bike, though this time their hands found each other and became intertwined as Peter rested his head against Wades shoulder while they walked.

They arrived back outside the Parker residence quicker than they had any right to, and Peter was beginning to regret his declining to join the other man in his bed. Ignoring the desire, Peter pressed in closer after he had dismounted from the bike. Wade welcomed his slender body in his space, wrapping a large hand around his waist and lower back to pull him closer as their lips joined again.

“You should get inside.” Wade told him finally pulling back and ending the exchange as he felt him shiver in his arms.

Peter pouted slightly, though he would have denied the accusation if anyone called him on it. “When’s your next game?” He asked instead of pulling away as he’d been bid.

Wade smiled at his lingering, a fond warmth filling his chest. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Already? Didn’t you just have a game a couple of days ago?” Peter questioned, confused.

Wade’s smile grew. “We normally have about three games a week.. You don’t know much about hockey, do you?” He questioned, though he didn’t sound upset.

“Not much. Is it obvious?” Peter confessed sheepishly.

“No, well, yes, but it’s kind of cute.” Wade told him, bopping him on the nose with his finger.

“If you have three games a week, how many do you have in a season?” Peter questioned next after he knew Wade wouldn’t mind.

“Eighty-two in the regular season.”

“That’s a lot of games.” Peter commented faintly, imaging it. Eighty-two games at three per week made for a twenty seven-week season- or more than half a year.

“Good thing I like the game then, huh?” Wade asked teasingly, running a strong palm up and down his back until it came to a rest on his hip once again.

“Good thing.” Peter agreed with a smile. He leaned forward, pressing his lips back to Wades for a final good night kiss. He felt Wades hand dip slightly lower to brush over the swell of his ass, but it was light enough that he chose not to acknowledge it. “Goodnight Wade.” He said instead, pressing another kiss to the corner of the older man’s mouth, reminiscent of how he’d done the same to Peter twice before.

“Good night, gorgeous. Sweet dreams.” He purred, pulling him in for one last squeeze before letting him go and re-centering himself on his bike. Peter watched him tear away down the street and felt himself twitch in his pants, though he elected to ignore it as he made his way into the empty apartment he shared with his aunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse is still buzzing on this one, so we'll see how quickly it wants let out. I would appreciate knowing if anyone is interested in this story or if I should try to focus my attention back on my other incomplete work. 
> 
> If anyone is here, thank you for reading, and I hope you are enjoying the story. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3

Wades game took him out of the city for the next couple of days, and Peter himself was busy for a couple of days after that, so it was nearly a week before they were able to meet up again. Though they hadn’t been able to get their free time to line up, they exchanged text messages at nearly all hours of the day and most hours of the night, depending on what each of them was doing.

They seemed to get to know each other more quickly behind the relative anonymity of a smartphone screen- it was easier to be more honest when you couldn’t see the other’s immediate reaction after all. Rather than driving them apart, the time drew them closer together and when they finally were able to align their schedules, they both found themselves disgustingly eager for the interaction.

Being as Peter relied almost entirely on public transportation, it was agreed that Wade would pick him up when his shift ended that Thursday at eight. He was straddling his bike when Peter emerged and locked the storefront up for the night. “You know most people switch to a car when it starts raining, let alone when there’s snow on the ground. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a death wish.”

Wade smirked at him as Peter came to a stop within touching distance. “There’s a reason they call me ‘Deadpool’ you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Peter asked, intrigued as he leaned in for a welcoming kiss. Wade reached out immediately in response, grasping a hold of his narrow hips and pulling him even closer as he showed his appreciation for having Peter physically within hold after days of only exchanging sporadic, but fairly continuous, texts. “Hi.” He said once they separated.

Wade smirked. “Hello, Gorgeous.” He responded easily, pecking him on the lips one final time before pulling back and reaching for the pair of helmets he had balancing on the bike. “What sounds good for dinner?” He asked as he pulled his own back on.

“Humm, I’ve been craving Thai. Know any good places for that one?” Peter challenged.

“You doubt me?” Wade asked, grabbing his chest and pouting exaggeratedly.

Peter laughed, grabbing a hold of his shoulder to pull himself on the back of the bike in what was quickly becoming a familiar motion. “Of course not.” He replied once he was settled, wrapping his arms tightly around the man in front of him just before the bike roared back to life and began rattling softly beneath them.

“Hold on tight.” Wade told him, pitching his voice to carry as they began to move.

The ride lasted longer than any of the others had so far and Peter was well and truly frozen by the time they arrived at their destination. They had to walk a couple dozen steps to get to the door and Peter took advantage of Wade’s heat by sliding his arm beneath the back of the man’s coat, his other arm coming up to tuck into the front that had been re-opened when Wade dismounted, fully encircling the larger man and making it just a bit awkward to walk, but to Peter, the warmth was worth it.

Wade didn’t seem to mind his cold hands on the bare skin of his back, for he wasted no time in returning the contact by wrapping one of his much larger arms around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him closer still.

They were seated immediately once inside, though there was still a respectable number of diners for a so late on a random Thursday night. Rather than sitting across from each other, Peter followed Wade into the same side of the booth. They’d been seated in the back corner and so the positioning had them facing an exterior window, with an empty table to their right, and the rest of the room more or less out of view.

“Do you know what you would like to drink?” The petite older woman asked with a lightly accented voice that spoke of many many years in America, though it was quite obvious she wasn’t a native to the country.

Wade looked down at him. “Have you every tried Thai Whiskey? They have a Mekhong here that’s to die for.”

Peter felt immediately uncomfortable at once again being forced to consider their age difference, that the fact that Wade didn’t seem to notice it, himself. “Uh, can I actually just get a cha-ron please?” He asked, reference the hot version of the Thai tea traditionally made with black tea leaves, spices, and was flavored with condensed milk, sugar, and finished with a slash of ordinary milk- whole or coconut, in his experience. Regardless of how it was made with all it’s variations, Peter always found it delicious.

Wade shrugged, ordering the whiskey for himself and then they were left alone to pursue the menu. “Hey Wade.. Can I, uh, ask you a question?”

“Yeah, course, what’s up?” The man replied, eyes still on the plastic covered words before he glanced over questioningly as he realized Peter had not yet opened his own menu.

Peter grimaced and seemed to steel himself before he spoke again. “How uh, how old do you think I am?”

Wade frowned, confused. “You said you just finished your associates, right? That would make you about twenty, twenty-one..- oh shit, are you not twenty-one yet? My bad, but they don’t ever card me here, so you could have ordered the whiskey anyway, if you wanted. Still can if you want.”

“No, I’m not.. I’m not twenty, or twenty-one, I’m uh, I’m eighteen. I sort of, uh, graduated early with enough collage credits to earn me the associates. I thought you should know that before we get any deeper into this.”

“You’re eighteen.” Wade repeated, deadpanned. “Like, almost nineteen, eighteen, or, like, just turned eighteen?” He questioned.

“Sort of, like, in the middle?” He tried. Peter had pulled back so there was distance between the press of their bodies for the first time since they’d been seated. “My birthday is August 10th, uh, 1993”

“So not even eighteen-and-a-half.”

“What, you still count the halves?” Peter teased reflexively. “And how old are you, anyway?”

“You didn’t get that from your Google search after you found out who I am?” Wade questioned, sounding honestly surprised.

“No, of course not.” Peter told him, frowning. “You already told me you like getting to know people without the pre-conceived notions clouding things… I get that. Looking you up would have been doing the opposite, don’t you think?”

Wade looked dumbfounded before he recovered. “Well yeah, but that doesn’t seem to stop most people.”

“I’m not most people.”

“No, you’re really not.” Wade responded with a crooked grin.

“You don’t mind, then?”

“Mind what?”

“That I’m only eighteen.” Peter said, slightly exasperated but fond.

“Oh, that. Of course I don’t mind, gorgeous. You may be jail-bait adjacent, but jailbait you’re not. Besides, I’ve always been one to appreciate brains over beauty. You just happen to have both- the package deal.” Wade told him, drawing a blush. “Age not being a factor either way.”

“You still haven’t told me how old you actually are.” Peter reminded him, fighting down the heat.

“Haven’t I?” Wade tried to deflect. “Okay, okay. I’m thirty-eight. My birthday’s November 22nd, 1973… Does that scare _you_ off?” He asked directly upon deciding to get it over with. “Knowing that I’m twenty years-three-ish months older than you?”

“You’re thirty-eight?” Peter repeated, honestly stunned. He had the other man pegged in the mid-to-late twenties, not nearly forty... But, well, what difference did it make, truly, know that their age difference was even greater than he had realized? He attempted to continue the sentence at seeing Wade’s raised brow. “Wow, uh, I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“No?”

“Uh, no.”

“How old did _you_ think _I_ was, baby boy?” He questioned, a new nickname jumping boldly into the mix, words practically rolling off his tongue as he grew more use to and comfortable with the idea.

Peter’s blush flew to a whole new height and it took him a moment before he could respond. “Oh, I dunno… twenty-eight, _maybe_ thirty?”

Wade laughed, mirth clearly gleaming in his eyes. “Really?” He questioned aloud.

“Yeah, really. Come on, you know how you look, you’ve obviously aged well.” Peter tried to defend the smug gaze still focused down on him.

“Maybe I don’t know.” The older man teased, voice deepening as he leaned over to nuzzle his nose into the crook of the others’ neck. “I appreciate the complement, of course, but not quite sure I believe it. Maybe I need you to show me.”

“You need me to show you how well you’ve aged? How exactly do you want me to do that?” Peter asked, his own laughter bubbling. The distance between them had faded completely with their banter and they were taken quite by surprise when their drinks arrived along with the question of whether or not they were ready to order. Wade sent the woman away with the plea for a couple more minutes.

“Mmm, I dunno, I’m sure we could figure something out.” Wade told him, resuming the nuzzling of his neck, though he’d added sporadic kisses along the tempting stretch of flesh.

“Oh yeah?” Peter asked faintly, flush deepening though not out of embarrassment.

“Ohhh yeahhh.” Wade drawled, finally pulling back and bringing his menu back to hand as if nothing had happened.

Peter stared at him incredulously before he finally picked up his own, though he was so distracted he couldn’t have told you what he settled on and subsequently ordered to save his life- or, at least, until said meal was delivered to their table twenty or so minutes later.

Regardless of their mutual distraction, the food was delicious and then they were back on the sidewalk, at a bit of a loss but neither ready for the night to end. “Now what?” Peter asked, facing Wade on the icy sidewalk.

“Want to go to Central Park?”

“Sure, but for what?” Peter agreed, not particularly caring where they went.

“We could go skating. Could stop by my place so I could grab my own skates, if you want. It’s on the way back that direction.”

Peter smiled brightly, the idea taking on a new thrill he hadn’t yet had when they met at that rink so recently. “That sounds great.” He said aloud before stretching up to claim to kiss.

The ride back across town was just as frigid as the ride there had been, but this time Peter wasted no time in taking advantage of the other’s almost unnatural warmth and so was in much better shape when they stopped again. “Coming up?” Wade asked casually.

“Sure.” Peter agreed, hoping his nerves weren’t audible in his voice.

The building didn’t have a doorman, but Wade held his wallet up to a scanner beside the door briefly for it to unlock. They entered the waiting elevator, only for Wade to scan whatever was in his wallet again before he pushed the button for the top floor, the doors closing smoothly after.

“Good security?” Peter said, though it came out as more of a question.

Wade laughed quietly, reaching out to wrap his arm around Peters shoulders and pulling him into his side. “Yeah. I’m a simple guy and all, but a crazy Puck Bunny breaking into my place once was enough, thank you very much.”

“Oh my god, really?” Peter exclaimed, aghast.

“Yeah, moved not long after.”

“I can imagine why. That’s insane, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, baby boy. And, welcome to my abode.” He finished as the doors opened directly onto his floor.

They stepped out together, Peter taking in the vast space surrounding them. It was... nice, he supposed. Hardwood floors, floor to ceiling windows along one whole wall, a large open concept kitchen he could see to the left, but it was… bare, unfinished. Sure, there were various bits and pieces strewn around- it was clearly a bachelor’s apartment- but there wasn’t really anything that made it personal. There weren’t any nick-knacks, any family photos or momentous, no personal artwork on the walls, nothing that gave any hint as to who lived there.

Wade hadn’t seemed to notice his distraction, moving through the empty space easily and pushing open a door off to the right- one of three on the wall. Peter trailed along slow behind, eyes still scanning to take in the details. The furniture was simple wood and leather and seemed almost staged, like it had been put together by a decorator for a magazine. The hockey stick leaning up against the corner, a few empty Chinese takeout contains and empty beer bottles on the low coffee table, and random scattering of shoes and clothes at least acknowledged that someone lived there, gave Wade some substance in what seemed a blank space.

Peter reached the doorway on silent feet, leaning on the support as he took in the other mans bedroom. It at least seemed lived in- a California King opposite the floor to ceiling windows that had continued from the living space had a dominating presence in the room. It was unmade, a dark maroon comforter pushed down to the foot and mussed charcoal colored sheets leaving no doubt as to where Wade had rested the night before.

His bedside table held a unique mixture of items- a tiny plush bear wearing a tiny New York Rangers jersey bearing Wades name and number on its back; a large, combat style knife with an intimidating looking edge; an over largely large ornate looking plastic ring akin to the one you got out of a 25 cent machine; and a picture frame turned face side down.

A desk was pushed off to one wall, though it seemed to be used more as a catchall than a work surface- a life sized Rangers jersey tossed haphazardly over the back of the chair while the rest of the gear rested in a heap on the ground. He could make out a laptop, a tangled pair of headphones, an x-box controller, a couple of magazines, a key ring, a dinosaur toy- for some bazaar reason- and a bag of apples. 

Wade himself had moved over to his closet, exchanging his well-worn leather jacket for a thick looking sweater that would allow much easier movement across the ice. It was nearly the same color as his comforter and hugged his trim abdominals and arms in a _very_ complementary way. Peter bit his lip unconsciously as his eyes ran from the man’s strong shoulders and narrower waist down to the dark-wash jeans that hugged his muscular ass and strong thighs and calf’s. It was quite the sight, and left Peter feeling rather flustered when Wade turned back around.

The older man paused, taking in his expression before a devilish light appeared in his eyes. He strolled closer, tucking his hands casually in his jeans, pulling the dark denim tighter and inadvertently- or perhaps purposefully- causing the fabric to outline his bulge.

His lips tugged into a smirk as he came to a stop just in front of Peter. He tugged his hands free, one coming to rest low on Peters waist- more on his hip than anything, really- while the other ran languish up his other side and around to his back until it loosely cupped the back of his neck. When he leaned in, it felt much more natural and Peter found it easier to accept the light enjoyment that came with the press of those lips and the pressure he could feel radiating from the fingertips spayed possessively across his person.

“Like what you see?” The NHL player asked when they finally pulled apart.

“Humm.” Peter hummed, neither confirming nor denying, though his rather dopy grin and pink stained cheeks gave him away despite himself.

“Humm?” Wade repeated teasingly, leaning down to nuzzle at the pale stretch of his neck. He ended the exchange with a lingering kiss to the junction where his neck met his shoulder and then he pulled back. “Ready to head to the rink?” He asked.

Peter was confused at first, a pleasant haze having began on the edge of his mind, but he quickly realized what the other spoke of. “Oh, yeah, of course.” He replied aloud, though internally he felt a bit more torn. Though the contact between them had been brief, he’d began to feel quite heated. Honestly, he would have quite willingly forgone skating all together, once they’d began exchanging such in intimate moment in the other man’s bedroom. The thought of rejoining the public, skating in what would undoubtedly be a busy rink, had lost nearly all its luster in the face of such natural temptation. “We should go, if we want to have enough time to make the entry fee worth it.”

“Don’t worry about the entry fee, baby boy. Watching you skate would be worth it, even if we only made the last fifteen minutes.”

Peter felt the blush erupt across his cheeks immediately and he was powerless to stop it, however frustrated he may have been to be so helpless in face of his charms and of his own reactions to them. He pushed against the others chest helplessly, for his strength compared to the others was laughable. Wade grabbed hold of his slender wrists and pressed the down and behind Peters back, as if he could read his mind. Peter felt his flush intensify, leaving his face and trailing down his neck and chest. Wade’s eyes followed the color Peter could only feel and when their eyes locked again Wades bore an entirely different level of intensity.

Wades thick fingers flexed around Peters much smaller wrists, transferring one so that he could hold both in a single hand. Once his right hand was free, he moved it to trail along Peters pale jawline, down his slender neck, and along his sternum that trembled unsteadily with his breaths. Further down, Wade could easily make out the stirring arousal at his ministrations, but he did not directly acknowledge it. “Beautiful.” Wade murmured, entranced with the sight laid out before him. He leaned forward one final time, joining their lips together for the most passionate exchange between them yet- an exchange of which was over with far too quickly, and then Wade released Peter altogether.

He turned away nonchalantly and strode over to grab his skates, leaving Peter to regain his shaky breaths on his own. Peter willed the heat in his cheeks to recede and the tightness in his pants to ease It was no use at first, and Peter knew Wade would still see it when he turned back around and shuffled him out of his bedroom and back towards the elevator. Peter’s hardness, at least, had dissipated by the time they reached the lobby and they made their way back to the street where they’d left the bike waiting for their return.

It was a quick trip to the rink, and they were soon sitting on a familiar bench to change out their shoes for skates before they entered the ice- this time together, rather than apart. Wade remained at his side as they took the first few loops in lazy strides, weaving easily in and out of the less confident skaters. The exchange from the apartment may have ended, but the tension between them seemed to have continued, despite the lull on the journey over.

Wade seemed almost compelled to reach out and brush his fingers against the other man at every opportunity. Peter became used to the sensation after only their third lap, for the other man’s digits had brushed against nearly all of the skin from his hairline to the lowest line of his tailbone, just teasing the tops of his buttocks but not quite crossing the line of what was lower.

At the junction of their third pass, and upon confirming no one would come into their way, Peter turned an easy 180 degrees, so that he was skating backwards to Wades forward motion, making eye contact with the other. Wade had immediately closed the last foots’ distance between them and had grasped him by the waist to help steer him around the corners and clear of the other skaters. Peter allowed the control over his movements, enjoying the brisk breeze across his face as their speed increased. Wade moved suddenly, smirk widening, as his grip tightened and he spun them once, twice, trice, across the ice, holding them tightly together with an arm he’d moved to wrap firmly around his waist.

Wade laughed aloud as they resumed a forward stride, Peter joining in after a dizzy moment. The giddiness of the exchange allowed him the courage to press up onto his toe picks, stopping them suddenly though their momentum was transitioned into a spin around Peter’s set skates as the younger of the two used his own arms to wrap around Wades neck, pulling him closer to press their lips back together. Wade’s hand came up to cup the side of his face, as his other resumed the possessive grip that was quickly becoming familiar on his hip, urging him out of his stop and back into motion, even as their lips remained locked.

Peter once again allowed the other control over his movements, tightening his arms around the others neck but otherwise allowing him to dictate where his skates took him as the swept across the ice pressed tightly together. He let out a pearl of bright laughter as Wade pitched forward to sweep him off his feet completely, pulling his body up and to himself to take his full weight as he moved back into an easy spin. Peter ducked his head down, tucking it into Wades shoulder as he trusted the other to keep them from wiping out (which wasn’t so unfeasible considering the balance required to accept a grown mans weight onto himself (Even one as slender as Peter) and maintain an easy, graceful stride.

Wade’s grip tightened, grabbing his attention. He pulled back enough to see the other mans face and Wade grinned at him, moving into a spin as he drew Peter’s hands from his neck, to his forearms, to his hands. By the time he let go, Peter was clear on what was happening and accepted the light throw easily, using the force to pull an easy triple axel. He took several strides and felt confident enough to move into his most recent successfully attempted trick, pushing off his a forceful sweep of his blade and then twisting his body into one, two, three, four tight spins, landing on his outside edge gracefully and allowing his body to be pulled naturally into a wide sweep, his trailing leg held behind himself for balance.

When he glanced back, he saw Wade watching him, stunned. “You can throw a quad?” He asked numbly as Peter paused and waited for him to draw even. “Holy shit, baby boy. Seriously, all joking aside, how are you not competing? That’s like, Olympic level shit.”

Peter blushed again, bashfully. “No,” He denied. “Come on, I just skate for fun, remember?”

“You really should think about signing up for that amateur competition at the rink. There’s a cash prize if you podium, and I highly doubt anyone else there can land a quad. You’d be a shoo in for gold.”

“Do you really think I’d have a chance?” Peter asked, doubtful. Sure, he could land a few jumps, but he didn’t have the polish, the poise, the flair, that was needed in competitive figures.

“A chance? Baby boy, I’d bet money on you taking gold. You’re amazing.”

“I’m not all that great.” Peter denied, bashful.

“Sign up, then. Let’s see what happens.” Wade challenged, drawing him close once again. “You podium, I win a favor. You lose, you win a favor.”

“Wait, why wouldn’t I win a favor if I win the competition? Isn’t that backwards?” Peter argued astutely.

“Yeah, but this way at least if you lose you still get something out of the deal. Isn’t that better than lose-lose?”

“You just have it all figured out, don’t you?” Peter asked, shaking his head a bit incredulously but with a growing fondness.

“I like to think so.”

“Only think so?”

“I’ve been proven wrong before.” Wade acknowledged. “Try to be a bit more cautious now a days.”

“You don’t seem very cautious with me.” Peter challenged, though he hadn’t meant for it to be one.

“No… I haven’t been very cautious around you, have I? I suppose you’re my exception.” Wade allowed, tilting his head charmingly.

“Exception, am I?”

“Humm. ” Peter nudged a leg between Wades as they moved in sync, pressed closely enough to be one person upon four skates.

They continued to skate together until the rink closed, again coming together and moving apart naturally, though this time the attraction between them seemed to hold them close together regardless of the rest.. They exited with the other stragglers, pausing to exchange blades for street shoes, sitting closely enough that their sides remained pressed together as the moved though the familiar motions of unlacing and re=lacing.

“Want me to take you home?” Wade asked once they were done and making their way back towards Wade’s bike, either in any particular hurry.

Did he want to go home? Peter wondered. The answer was quite clearly ‘no.’ May was working another nightshift and wasn’t expected home until after Peter was due to leave for the day, so she wouldn’t have any idea either way. He found the thought of spending the night with the other man much more tempting than spending it alone at home. But how did he convey that without sounding pathetic or desperate? “What are my other options?” He asked rather than affirming the statement. Wade tilted his head to peer down at him, that devilish light coming back to his eyes.

“Well, I suppose you could come back to mine, if you won’t be missed.”

“I won’t be missed.” Peter confirmed. Wade’s arm tightened around his waist, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss against his temple.

The trip back to the man’s apartment seemed to pass even quicker than the journey to the rink had, the mostly empty streets allowing him to press forward with their unspoken urgency. They didn’t exchange words once they arrived back at Wades building. The elevator ride passed completely in silence and they actually kept their distance despite Wades focused gaze and Peter’s continued flush.

It was only once they were secure in the loft that they came back together, Peter stepping closer and Wade accepting him easily into his hold. The passion between them was higher than they’d allowed it to rise before and Peter gasped as Wade pressed his own leg between Peter’s, rubbing firmly against his growing hardness until Peter let out a helpless mewl and flexed his hips helplessly in return, arousal skyrocketing.

Wade seemed to enjoy his desperate noise, for his hand came to grip Peter’s hair and his thigh flexed again to try and pull another such sound free. They had only gone so far as a free stretch of wall and so Wade had effectively pinned Peter to the wall with his thigh as he chased their mutual satisfaction. He remembered how turned on Peter had become when he’d pulled his arms behind his back, and so he moved to repeat the motion. Peter’s hand’s hand been resting on his chest, so it was an easy matter to grasp them by their wrists and tug them downwards and back. The heat in Peter’s eyes flared and he was clearly remembering the same.

Wade breathed out harshly from his nose, feeling the unrelenting need to state something out loud, even if he’d rather have ignored the urge and simply moved on. “This-“ He stuttered, latching his teeth onto that tempting stretch of flesh despite his best efforts. “This, is uh, this is where your age comes in…” He paused, hand tightening as his nibble gained suction and he brought a purple mark to live on Peter’s jawline. “If this, uh, it, get’s to be too much, say something.” He finally managed, sounding firm at the end despite his distraction.

Peter nodded desperately. “This is good, I’m good, it’s not too much.” He stated, pulling Wade close enough to reconnect their lips. Wade’s hands dropped lower, cupping Peters ass so they could lift him off his feet completely. Peter’s legs wrapped around Wade’s hips automatically as his arms came back to wrap around his neck, holding him close and ensuring their continued center of balance.

Wade spun them around, his lips once again fastened on Peters neck as he carried him through the open space and back to the familiar bedroom. The door had been left open and so there was nothing to impede their journey to the large bed. “W-wade.” Peter stuttered just before the man in question tossed him gently atop the mattress.

He followed him quickly down, not allowing the distance between their bodies to remain any longer than absolutely necessary. Peter was, surprisingly, the first to move towards removing clothing, reaching forward and drawing Wades sweater up and over his head without complaint, the thin t-shirt he wore beneath coming with it.

Wade quickly moved to return the gesture, stripping Peter until he wore only his clingy pants. He ran his hand along the fabric, pulling Peter’s thigh up until he had both knees enclosing the man above him. Peter found he rather enjoyed the new position, for it allowed him to grip the other with his knees and pull himself up to drag his hardness against the others’, teasing them both and bringing things to yet another level on intimacy.

“God, I love these pants. You should wear them all the time.” Wade murmured, ducking lower and starting at trail of nips and kisses that went down the full length of his chest and abdomen and then continued down the V of his hips and around the press of his hardness beneath the somewhat stretchy fabric cupping it.

“..Surprised you don’t like them better off.” Peter managed though the haze taking root in his mind and his glanced down to see the older man’s head nuzzling against the most intimate part of himself, still bound by fabric.

“Ohh, I’m sure I will Baby Boy. Just savoring the moment.” He told him, biting down sharply and drawing a startled gasp from Peter. His calloused hands came up to wrap around his hips, thumbs dipping beneath his waistband to tease at the tender skin at the juncture of his hips and thighs, carefully avoiding his most sensitive area.

He continued to avoid the area as he moved around to unsnap the tight jeans, pulling down the zip and then slowing wiggling them down his slender hips. Wade watched reverently as he was exposed beneath his touch. His pubic hair was short and neatly trimmed, he noticed with satisfaction before he dipped his head down to engulf the pretty cock resting so temptingly close. Peter let out a full moan at the sudden sensation and Wade had to grip his hips tightly to prevent him from surging upwards. Peter’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gave in fully to the sensation, accepting whatever was coming next.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I look forward to hearing what you think :)


	4. Chapter 4

Peter woke to soft lips nuzzles his neck at an ungodly hour early Friday morning. His eyes scrunched in denial before they finally blinked open to confirm that, yes, it was still pitch black outside the wall of windows. His attention was easily directed elsewhere, and Peter thoroughly enjoyed his first few minutes of waking.

Wade eventually detached himself and drew back, propping his head up on one hand and observing him with a lazy smile. “Good morning.” He said, the sentiment not seeming at all delayed despite the minutes that had passed since his waking.

“Good morning.” Peter murmured back, stretching as his brain began to clear of cobwebs.

“I truly hate to do this, but I have practice in a little over an hour and our practice rink is twenty-five minutes from here. You’re more than welcome to stay and sleep in if you want, but if you’d rather I take you home, we should get moving soon.”

Peter listened to the words and rolled them over in his head thoughtfully. His lips were still tingling from their recent exchange and the last thing he wanted was to drag himself up and out of Wades bed, just then. Besides, it was just as easy for him to hop on the Subway down the street as it was anywhere else in the city, so finding his own way home at a more reasonable hour was far from a hardship. He hummed, “If I find my own way home later, then how long until you have to leave?” He asked slyly.

Wade’s smile widened into a smirk. “’Bout forty-five minutes.” He replied, tone changing. He shifted, tilting his head back down and closing the distance he’d only just managed to put between them to bring their lips back together- further discussion unnecessary.

Peter’s arms came up to wrap around Wade’s neck and he pulled the older man more completely on top of him, until Wade got the hint and took over re-situating himself between Peter’s shapely and still bare thighs. They both let out pleasured noises at the contact- Peter a breathy moan, Wade a bitten off curse, and such was how they communicated for the next twenty or so minutes. Wade was much more gentle than the night before, he moved slower and took his time bringing Peter to the edge before joining their bodies once again, likely knowing without needing confirmation that Peter would be a bit sore after their previous coupling.

In the aftermath, Peter found himself dozing off where he lay sprawled across Wade’s chest, remaining where the other man had tugged him to as they’d gotten situated. He woke again as the older man gently shifted him back onto a pillow a few minutes later. Though his eyes remained closed, Peter felt the kiss Wade pressed against his temple before rising from his bed, moving to the bathroom. Peter listened absently as Wade took a five-minute shower and then dressed himself just as quickly.

Peter rolled over to blink up at him as he heard the man come to a stop beside the bed. Wade ducked down for another lingering kiss, of which Peter returned to the best of his ability given his current state. “You don’t need ID to get out, just call the elevator when you’re ready to leave… Feel free to stay as long as you’d like though.”

“Do you ever get a day off?” Peter asked sleepily, thinking how nice it would be if the other could simply crawl back into bed with him. It wasn’t cold in the apartment by any means, but Peter felt the absence in the cooling sheets outside his immediate vicinity.

“I have Sunday off- practice today, a home game tomorrow and then a recovery day Sunday.”

“Mmm, that’s good then.” Peter mused aloud. “Have a good practice. Dr’ve safe.” He mumbled, starting to drift back off despite his best efforts.

“I will. Sweet dreams, Baby Boy.”

~*~

When Peter woke again, it was several hours later and mid-morning light was spilling though the large windows. He luxuriated in the huge bed, enjoying the softness and the knowledge of just whose bed it was and the memories leading up to him being there. He stretched, wincing to himself at the slight ache in his lower back but knowing the small discomfort was well worth the memories it brought. He finally rolled over, scanning around for his clothes in an effort to locate the phone which was likely still in his jean’s pocket- and hopefully with a bit of a charge still.

He located his previous days’ outfit tossed over the back of the desk chair, taking the place of the jersey that had been there the day before. He pushed himself reluctantly up and out of bed, knowing he needed to get moving sooner or later and just how much sooner or later would depend on what time it was.

His phone wasn’t in his jeans pocket, he realized with a small frown. He pulled on his tight boxer-briefs, feeling too odd to go naked despite knowing he was alone and despite knowing the floor-to-ceiling windows were made of one-way glass for privacy. Leaving the rest of his clothes for the moment, he made his way out of the bedroom and over to the kitchen island, where he caught sight of his phone waiting for him, plugged in and blinking that it was fully charged. A folded sheet of paper sat beside it, interestingly enough colored pastel blue.

Peter blinked down at it curious and opened it to find a single-page menu for a taco place with a local address. He shook his head with a smile, the color making much more sense, and turned back to the scrawled words. ‘Good Morning Bby, hope you slept well. Stay as long as you’d like- take a shower, help yourself to whatever you’d like in the kitchen for breakfast. Got a thing with the team tonight but you should come to the game tomorrow and we can do something after. Text me later. Ps. I’ve been imagining you in my shower since I left this morning. Sad I have to miss it :’( - Wade’

Peter blushed at the end, not expecting the sudden change in tone after such a sedate letter, but the words brough a new flood of heat to his body and he was suddenly just as sad to be alone. No longer interested in food just then, he instead made his way back to the bathroom. He still had plenty of time before he had to be at work himself and so the only urgency he felt was rather lecherous and self-serving.

He’d seen the bathroom the night before, of course, but hadn’t given the frosted glass corner shower the attention it deserved, his eyes having caught on the large jetted tub and the potential for a shared bath.

Now though… He whistled to himself. A built-in bench wrapped around the tiled wall, two sturdy metal grab bars positioned innocently on either side of it. There were two different shower heads- a huge square one right in the middle of the shower that mimicked rainfall when he tested the taps, and a more traditional round one off to one side. He found he could turn on either or both depending on his preference.

Wade’s soap and shampoo brought a familiar scent- one Peter didn’t mind being covered in for the day. He went about his absolutions first and foremost, washing the stale sweat and other things off from the night before and the mornings repeat performance.

Once he was clean his earlier thoughts came back to mind. He cracked open the frosted glass door and paused to dry off his hands before grabbing his phone from the counter nearby. He flipped to camera mode and settled himself down on the dark tiles of the bench, safe from the fall of water. He took a quick range of selfies- starting modestly with a hint of a tease, and then growing in boldness as his cock stirred back to life with his dirty thoughts.

He stood from the bench and leaned against the wall instead, propping one foot casually up as though it were a step instead of a seat. Gaining inspiration, he used his wet hand to pour some more of that delicious smelling soap onto his leg so he could work it into a lather. He spread the suds across his chest and stomach and the massaged his hard cock with what remained in his hand. He drew his phone back up to position and peered through his lashes at the screen to see himself in miniature and snapped the shot. It felt good and so he kept the phone in position as he pulled his fist lazily back and forth, snapping a couple more pictures without looking, and then a couple more as his speed increased without conscious thought.

His mind wandered from the room he stood alone in, remembering the hard lines of Wades body the night before, how much of a turn on it had been to be lifted clear from the ground and manhandled around the place like he didn’t weigh a thing, remembering how _good_ he felt, how hard and huge and just the right side of ‘too much,’ he’d experienced that morning when they’d gone for round two while he was still stretch and swollen and sloppy from the night before. It all felt so… filthy, Peter thought as his body tensed and he began coming again, before he really realized how close to the edge he was.

The hand holding the phone dropped as he panted out a few rapid breaths. He finally opened his eyes and glanced down at the screen to see he’d accidently hit the record button while his eyes had been closed, rather than simply taking still photos as he’d thought he was doing. Humm, that could work just as well, he thought. He stuck his phone back out where it was safe and then finished rinsing the soap off again so he could get out.

He exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and made his way back to the bedroom for his clothes. He finished drying off and then pulled his jeans back on commando. His shirt and briefs he rolled into a small bundle to take with, choosing instead to borrow one of Wade’s oversized sweatshirts and hoping he wouldn’t mind, then tucking the roll of fabric into the large front pocket.

Satisfied, he made his way back to the kitchen and poked through the cabinets until he found some packets of instant oatmeal. He had plenty of other options- eggs, breakfast meats, fresh fruit, bagels, just about anything Peter could have hoped for, but the oatmeal was familiar and easy.

He pulled up the pictures he’d taken while he waited for it to heat, pausing on the one just before he accidently hit to record. His head was tiled back against the tiles, water droplets glistening on his eyelashes over closed eyes. His cheekbones bore a high flush, his mouth was slightly parted in his distraction. Peter trailed his eyes further down the picture, seeing the water droplets trail down his own slender musculature and to the V of his hips where his delicate grip was wrapped around his equally flushed and sudsy manhood.

Feeling the flush bloom on his cheeks again at the thought of just what he had done, he scrolled further back until he got to one of the first photos he’d taken. It was much more PG, no naughty bits in sight and just an enticing glance of Peters damp face, teeth biting at his lip, with the shower wall as a backdrop. He added the picture as a file along with the text, ‘Morning, hope your day is well. Took u up on the offer to shower, hope you don’t mind. ;)’

Remembering from before, Peter didn’t expect a response immediately. Instead, he tucked into his light meal and then languishly cleaned up after himself. He puttered around gathering the few bits and pieces he’d strewn across the apartment- some without realizing he done so- and then eventually made his way back to the elevator when he didn’t have anything else to keep his attention. 

Peter was on a packed subway when his phone buzzed in his pocket, but he wasted no time in pulling it free. ‘Minding is the furthest thing from my mind, baby boy. Enjoy yourself?’

‘Could have enjoyed myself more, but it wasn’t bad’ Peter replied. He bit his thumb nail, debating on whether or not he wanted to continue.

‘Only wasn’t bad?’ Wade responded before he could think about what he wanted to say, followed almost immediately by another text, and then a third. ‘My shower is to die for.’ ‘Jk, seriously though, would have been better than ‘not bad’ if I’d been there with you. Definitely wouldn’t have stopped with one picture, if you know what I mean ;)’

Peter paused briefly, the teasing giving him the boldness to do what he’d been considering. He pulled up another picture- this one slightly more revealing though not quite as much as the rest were. ‘Who said I stopped with one?’ Peter sent back and felt his cheeks heat despite his relative isolation in the sea of strangers. It was nearly his stop, so he tucked the device away and ignored it, even when he felt it buzz again a moment later.

They came to a rough stop and Peter joined the lines of people departing around him. He waited to read the message until he came out at street level and the sensation of being over-crowded faded back to a manageable level.

‘Oh really now. You know since the pictures were taken in my apartment, that technically gives me rights to check them out. If you could just go ahead and send them all, that would be great.’

Peter laughed aloud, eyes crinkling. His fingers tapped at his screen as he walked the short distance remaining to Delmar’s. ‘Pretty sure the law you’re talking about is possession, and since I technically possess all of the pictures on my cell phone, that argument doesn’t really work.’

He got back a simple ‘:(’, followed quickly by ‘How many is ‘all?’ Just so we’re both on the same page.’

‘Dunno, really. I accidently hit to record at one point, and I didn’t go back and count the pictures.’

‘Wait, you have a video? Video of what?’ Wade questioned immediately, causing Peters smirk to grow.

‘Nothing much, really.’ He glanced up to see his destination half a dozen steps away and took the excuse for what it was. ‘Sorry Wade, just got to work. I’ve gtg, I’ll ttyl, hope you’re having a great day!’ Feeling devilish, he sent one final photo through- this one much more erotic, though it had still been taking at the beginning and so held more of a teasing edge than a desperate one, like some of the others did.

‘You’re the devil.’ Wade sent back rapidly. ‘Have a good day, gorgeous. We WILL be talking about the rest of those pictures at some point.’

Peter entered his workplace with a smile still on his lips, where it remained though the lunch rush and afternoon.

~*~

As expected, they didn’t see each other again that night, though they did continue to exchange sporadic text messages as their day allowed. Peter didn’t see him the next day before the game either- rather, Wade had his ticket waiting for him a pickup and so he made his way alone to his seat.

The seat itself was amazing- right on the isle and close enough to the ice that he would be able to make out the individual players. It was the first time he’d actually been to a hockey game in real life- sure, he’d caught a game or two on TV, but it wasn’t ever something he was overly interested in, as was the case with most sports.

It was a brutal game and seemed even more vicious up close. He could hear the rattle of the plastic sheeting as a Ranger’s player he wasn’t familiar with smashed into it at full force, thanks largely to the player on the opposing team who had hooked his ankle with his stick and caused him to go careening across the ice.

Peter wasn’t the only one to let out a noise of outrage as the dirty and illegal move went uncalled, probably because the refs were distracted by the ongoing play across the rink, where two players were struggling to free the puck from the other while their teams swarmed from all sides. He couldn’t quite tell what happened, but the puck suddenly shot across the ice, followed by a wave of determined players vying to get it under their control.

The game was fun, even watching it by himself. He got into it to the point he surprised himself with his enthusiasm, but it was hard to remain calm when Wade was such an absolute powerhouse on the ice, flattening players like they were nothing in one moment and then sprinting down center ice with the puck a moment later, driving it home and drawing the roar of the sirens to signal their scoring.

The end score was 5-3 Rangers and Peter cheered just as loudly as any other fan in the stadium around the rink as the team swept into a victory lap. He caught Wade’s eyes as the man shot by, reading the adrenaline clearly still simmering under the surface. The team disappeared after a minute and the stands began to clear as the spectators made their way back to the surrounding parking lot and shuttle stations.

Peter remained sitting, patiently waiting for Wade to emerge from the locker room as he tinkered around on his phone, scrolling through social media to pass the time. It took nearly an hour, but Wade had warned him the coach would want to talk to them after the game, regardless of whether they won or lost, and before they were able to shower or duck out.

Peter didn’t mind the wait- not when it meant he got to see the other man, have his undivided attention focused on himself, and even more so knowing Wade didn’t have a 5:00 practice the next morning or a game he’d have to fly out for, meaning they may actually get a lazy ‘morning after’ that involved both of them.

When Wade finally appeared, he did so with a spring in his step and a toothy grin spread across his handsome face. He didn’t hesitate to duck down and claim Peter’s lips for his own with a heat that hadn’t been there last time they’d physically parted.

“Hey you.”

“Hey yourself.” Peter replied. “Congrats, by the way. That was a great game.”

“Yeah, we did pretty good. Coach was happy anyway, that’s usually what matters.” Wade rambled as Peter stood and they began making their way towards the nearest exit. “I’m starving. How do you feel about shawarma? ”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not proof read, please forgive any mistakes. I did write it all in one shot so hopefully there's nothing glaringly odd about it. I'm falling asleep and my computer is dying, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting so decided to go head and post it. Wade and Peter's relationship is really starting to take off. I hope you are enjoying this story- please let me know what you think or if there's anything in particular you're hoping to see. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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